𝐑𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐀𝐂𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐘

Chapter 13: Drunken Mistake

Aelin has to admit, after challenging Rowan to a drinking contest-which she won, she was starting to find drunk Rowan kinda... fun? His head was thrown back while he laughed out loud to something she said. They weren't competing anymore. She can't even remember what they were talking about that made him smile like that, but she knew she liked this side of him. The stress free part of him.

But she was just as drunk as he was, probably even more so, the taste of vodka danced on her tongue but all her senses were numb. All she could hear was the music that was alarmingly loud and dragged Rowan with her to the crowd of teens already dancing.

"No, no, no. I..." Rowan lightly tried to pull away, but stumbled along with her, "I can't dance."

Aelin laughed, "Don't worry just follow my lead." The front of his hair fell in front of his eyes and he looked... cute?
Shaking her head at the thought she took both his hand and placed them on either side of her waist and wrapped her own around his neck. "Just...sway to the beat."

His eyebrows furrowed and he bit his lip in concentration, it was adorable and Aelin just stared. The hands on her hips were so warm compared to the cool air, and she felt like she could stay here forever.

She hummed, dragging her body closer until she could feel his hard chest against her own, "You got it."
She knew the alcohol was talking, making her act this way. Aelin knew that when she woke up tomorrow she wouldn't remember a thing, and maybe that's why she didn't stop... maybe that's why she felt the sudden urge to kiss him.

Looking up, into his pine green eyes, she slowly reached up and traced her finger along the dark swirls and patterns embedded on his skin.
"Beautiful," She breathed at his tattoos, at him, and felt him shiver under her touch, "What does it mean?"

"Nothing," He stated drowsily, his eyes moving down to her mouth and back up again. Aelin didn't think there was any space left between them, and she completely lost her train of thought.

"Nothing?" She whispered, her lips grazing the tips of his ear. The hands on her waist tightened a bit and before Aelin could blink, lips are pressed against hers, alarmingly soft. Warm. It's not just the smell of the vodka now, no, Aelin could taste it. Spiced and sweeter than whatever it was she herself had been drinking earlier, and for a moment her desires got the better of her. She didn't like him, she knew she didn't, but she didn't stop either.

She followed that taste, chased it with more enthusiasm while she let Rowan's hands drift over her waist, sneak under her shirt and slide across the skin beneath.

Aelin gasped and pulled away for a moment, only to be chased by lustful lips that claimed her again, again, again. Those lips became rougher, claiming Aelin's with fervor, a fire that she has had yet to see from him up until now, so warm and getting warmer, amazingly warm, so she kissed back.

She's drunk, and not just on alcohol.
Aelin's drunk on the night and on Rowan and the feeling that he gives her, and she's drunk on this feeling that they should not be doing this. She fisted her hands in his hair and tugged, shivering at the moan that came out of his lips.

Her stomach started feeling queasy. She pulled back from his restless touch, covering her mouth quickly, and ran past the grinding bodies. Far enough from the party, she pressed one hand against the tree, doubled over and vomited.

When there was nothing else to empty from her stomach, she sucked in a breath and laughed to herself, even when her throat and lungs burned. She laughed because of the drinks still in her system and because she was so sure, for a split second, that she was actually enjoying her time. After a couple of minutes of regaining her breath she already started to miss him. Rowan. He was just so... good.

Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, Aelin stumbled through the woods, looking around with her fuzzy vision to get back to the party but stopped dead in her tracks. A couple of feet in front of her she saw the outline of two people pressed against a tree.

Through the splitting silence of the night she could hear their heavy breaths. A low voice growled a name over and over again, "Dorian..."
She couldn't see the other male, his back was towards her and towering over Dorians.

Her brain was slow to process what was happening, so she took slow steps back and made sure to watch her feet despite her clumsiness. When she could see the distant red color of a flame appearing behind the numerous trees, she started running, to who, she didn't really know. The branches were close enough to scratch her skin, and in her daze, she felt as if they were reaching out to her.

"Aelin!" Nehemia waves at her, sitting with Elide and Lorcan next to the bonfire. The hot flames danced in front of her, and she felt like she was seeing double. Shaking her head, she strutted over to them.

"Where..." Aelin said and swallowed, "Where is he..." She reeled in her thoughts and tried to think a little harder. What had she meant to say again? She can feel the remaining vodka settling over her tongue and all throughout her brain, slowing her down and making everything so...fuzzy. She's a mess.

She heard someone laugh, and her body felt so tired, she just wanted to crawl on the hard soil and fall asleep.
"Lorcan, help me get her out of here," Another laugh and suddenly she was being picked up, bride style. She smiled giddily at the person and said things she couldn't remember, then everything turned black.